The Broken Dreamer
by Fangirl.Awesome
Summary: Thirteen year old Daisy Corrigan is joining Foxfire. She befriends Sophie Foster and her friends and nothing could be better. Except her home life. With her mom gone Daisy is stuck with her alcoholic father. But Sophie and her friends show Daisy how her life could be, if she tells someone about her father. Will she listen to her friends or turn away from them like everyone else?
1. Chapter 1

**It's another new story! So I hope you like this one just as much as FWF (Fighting with Fear). ENJOY!**

I stare at myself, searching my green eyes for the courage I lack to go to school. I sigh when I don't find it. I give my outfit one more glance. I was wearing my black Converse, red flannel, and my-little-too-big jeans. I smile and grab my messenger bag and book lying on the bed. I hop down the stairs , not caring if I wake up Dad. It didn't matter anyway, since he was passed out on the couch. I walk over and lean to smell his breath. I snort and take a few steps when I smell the beer on his breath. I shake my head and glare at my Dad's unconscious form. Not again. I start toward the kitchen, my mood darkened. I grab a piece of bread and sling my messenger bag over my head.

"See ya later, Dad," I call, not expecting an answer.

I open the chipped green painted door and the screen door. I let them both slam behind me. Foxfire, my new school, was only a couple blocks away. I walk towards the massive building, eating my piece of bread. I pass the little coffee shop, the Open sign flickering in it's window. We moved closer to Foxfire, out of our old house, because Dad said he needed to get way from 'her'. 'Her' is my mom, who passed away six months ago. I shake out of my thoughts, now wanting to think of Mom. The pyramid-shaped school loomed closer and my heart pounds faster. How I hate new places.

.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~.

I walk through the doors of Foxfire Academy, admiring how beautiful it was. The school had a stone courtyard where some of the kids lingered and talked. Not going to lie, I felt a little lonely when no one said hi to me. I know I'm new and all, but still, friendliness. I was surprised to see more kids in the school. Immediately I noticed how hot it was in here. I pull the neck of my flannel and take a deep breath. I walk around the mass of talking and laughing kids, trying to stay close to the wall.

I keep my head down and clutch my book tighter. I find an empty corner of the auditorium and sit down, crossing my legs Native American style. I set the book out of my lap and admire the cover. _Black Beauty._ How I love this book. Horses were always my favorite animal and this book just deepened my love for them. Anna Sewell is an amazing author. I open the book to the page my bookmark was laying. I start to read and completely lose myself in the book. Before I knew it, the bell rang. I startle and look up, finding the kids instantly quieting down and turning to the stage. I scramble to my feet and look in that direction too.

The principal comes out then, and I get a good look at him. His black hair was extremely gelled. It was slicked back in a weird way and I grimaced.

"Hello, student! Welcome back to Foxfire! But some of you are newcomers. Please give a warm welcome to Daisy Corrigan and Kiara Umbra!"

One of the huge stage lights shined down on me and the other new girl, Kiara. Kiara had wavy blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes. She smiled at me and I smiled back. All the other kids were clapping and staring at us. Finally the lights turned away from us and to another kid, a boy, probably a year or two older with dark hair and teal eyes, who won an award for best athlete or something. I tuned out of the announcements then, startled by the sudden attention. Some of the kids kept looking back at me, including a girl with brown eyes and blonde hair. I glanced away, instead looking down at my book.

I wish I could be part of my own story, one without a dad who liked beer, one with a living mother. And maybe a sister. Yeah, that would be cool, a sister that I could share my secrets with and be best friends with. I smiled stroked the book cover. Than I shake out of it, realizing what I was doing. Imagine, seeing a girl who pets her books. What a fangirl. I shake my head and looked up to the stage again. The principal, who's name is Leto, according to some kids next to me, finally stopped rambling about whatever and stepped back from the microphone, but not before he said, "Have a great year!"

I snort. I doubt that. I glance down at my schedule the school mailed the day before and find I have history first. I start walking in the direction I think the history classroom is but quickly stop when I ear a voice say, "Hey, Daisy! Wait up!" I turn around to find the same blonde girl who kept staring during announcements jog towards me, her friends walking behind her.

"Hey. My friends and I wanted to meet you before you go to class," Blondie said.

"I'm Sophie, and this is Keefe, Fitz, Biana, and Dex." Fitz was the boy who won the award, Dex has strawberry-blonde hair and periwinkle eyes. Biana has brown hair and teal eyes like Fitz, so they must be related, and Keefe had blonde hair and icy blue eyes. Those eyes stared at me and crinkled when he smirked.

"I'm Daisy. But you must already know that since the principal told the whole school," I say, giving a slight wave.

"So what class do you have first?" Biana asked.

"History," I answer, showing them my schedule.

"No way! Same here!" Biana shouted making us jump. "Do you want to walk with me?"

"Uh, sure," I tell her, surprised how fast I made a friend, or friends.

"Okay, we better get going then. See ya guys later." Biana grabs my hand and drags me in the other direction. I glance behind me with a stunned look on my face. They all chuckle and wave goodbye. I turn back around, trying to catch up and wiggle my and free. But my attempts were futile. Instead I thank God for me finally having friends.

 **Sorry it's kind of short. It's more than a thousand words so..whatever. I hope you like this and TILL NEXT CHAPTER!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey guys! I hope you like this chapter. Enjoy!**

I slide into a seat next to Biana's. I slip my bag's strap over my head and let it fall to the floor with a thunk. I rest my _Black Beauty_ on my desk. The teacher wasn't there yet so Biana turned to me and started talking.

"I just love your shirt! Where did you get it?" She asked, gesturing to my flannel.

"Umm," I answer, "my closet?"

Biana laughs and everyone turns to look at her. She ignores them.

"No, silly. I was asking where you _bought_ it from."

I shrug, embarrassed by the answer I gave. We sit in silence after that, waiting for the teacher. Finally a woman rushes in. She has raven black hair and a heavily jeweled shirt and headband. She set her teacher supplies on her desk, and stood up straight. She smoothed her hands over the front of her shirt and stepped out and in front of her desk.

"Welcome, students. I hope all of you had an amazing summer. But I will tell you once, and only once, that the summer is over and I am here to teach and you are here to learn. So no talking when I am talking, no passing notes, no reading books in class,"-with this Ms. Whoever looked pointedly at me and my book-"and no tapping your pencil. I so hate the sound and if I catch you doing it, I will take your writing utensil away. My name is Ms. Galvin and do I make myself clear?" She asked, sweeping her gaze around the room.

All the kids nodded their head, shocked speechless by Ms. Galvin's welcome speech. Ms. Galvin nod once and picks up a whiteboard marker.

"So let's begin, shall we?"

...

After two more classes, both of which Biana was the only person I knew, we headed to lunch. _Holy crap, so many kids_ , I think as we walk into the cafeteria. Tables and benches were everywhere. Kids already filled most of them. Biana and I enter the lunch line, grabbing neon orange lunch trays. I grab an apple, macaroni and cheese bowl, apple juice, and chips. I follow Biana to a table that Sophie and her friends were sitting, never losing my shock of how big it is. Keefe had his feet up on the table, the bottom of his Converse facing everyone.

"Hey! How was your first day so far?" Sophie asked as we sat down.

I tap Keefe's feet, motioning him to scoot over. Keefe looks at me, raises his eyebrow and smirks. He doesn't move his feet. I sigh and set my tray halfway on the table, Keefe's feet covering the other half.

"It was...interesting," I say, finally answering Sophie's question.

Sophie laughs and nods. "That was like my first day too." Before I could ask Sophie to elaborate, the other new girl, Kiara, came over to our table.

"Can I sit here?" she asked. Her blonde hair was now pulled back in a ponytail. She was tall and her white laced shirt fit her well. Her blue eyes held the same sparkle they had earlier.

I move closer to Keefe, making room for Kiara. When she sat down, it wasn't that hard to miss the way Dex stared at her. I lean over the table to him and whisper, "Don't start drooling." Dex's cheeks turn crimson and he glances down at his lunch. Keefe tries to hide a snicker behind his hand but fails. My heart flutters, satisfied that I made someone laugh. I take a bite of my apple and turn to Kiara.

"What was your first class?" I asked after I swallowed.

"It was astronomy. And gosh was it awesome!" Kiara exclaimed, "All those stars and constellations."

"I like astronomy too," Dex said. There was still a little blush on his cheeks and Kiara smiled at him.

"Cool. Maybe we can study sometime." Kiara blew a stray hair out of her face and I noticed the redness of her cheeks also. I look over to Biana and raise and eyebrow, tilting my head to Kiara and then to Dex. Biana giggled and nudged Sophie. Apparently she noticed the exchange too. We all smiled at each other.

...

After school, Biana asked if I wanted to come over and do homework. I politely declined, telling her my dad probably wanted to know how my first day went. My fingers tingled from the lie, but I shook it off. I stopped at the coffee shop on my way home. The shop was called Cup o' Java. It was a cozy little place, with a fireplace in one corner; wooden tables and chairs and booths. A painting with a cup of coffee and coffee beans swirling around it was hanging above the fireplace, and on the mantle were pictures of customers and their cups of java.

I go up to the counter and ask for black coffee and sugar to go. The barista had pink streaks in her hair and a nose piercing. She smiled and told me that it would cost $3.95. I dig into my pocket and hand her a five-dollar bill. She put my money into the cash register and handed me my change. Then she made my order. I thanked her and grabbed my coffee.

I walk out the door, my feet turning in the direction of home. I take a sip of my coffee and nearly spit it out form how hot it was. This happened all the way home, me burning myself every time I drank.

I open the screen door of my house and walk in. I drop my backpack onto the floor and slip off my Converse. I pad into the kitchen, setting my coffee cup on the table.

"Dad?" I call out. No answer. I walk over to the couch and check if Dad was still passed out. Nope, nothing there except crushed blue throw pillows. I then check his bedroom. I find him sitting on the floor in front of his closet, beer bottle in hand.

"Dad," I sigh, suddenly tired. He looks up and his brown eyes, my eyes, are sad. Without telling me, I know Dad was thinking about Mom. I cautiously shuffle in, not knowing how long and how much Dad was drinking. Dad doesn't make a move to stop me from gently taking the beer away. I feel relieved. When he doesn't resist it means he only had one or two.

"You need to rest," I tell him. Dark circles and a little bit sagging skin made him look older than he actually is. I hold his arm as he struggles to his feet. I guide him to his bed and pull the cover up and around him when he lays down.

"Come downstairs when you wake up." I pat Dad's arm and head to the door. Dad murmurs something unintelligible and turns over. I quietly close the door behind and lean against it. Apparently I'm going to be the parent today. Like I've been doing for the past six months. I pad to my room, not bothering to close the door. I stand there for a second, surveying my room. My tan walls are chipped around the bottom and my slightly darker carpet served as my bed. Dad hasn't put together my bed yet so I had to build a bed on the floor with blankets and pillows.

Boxes filled with my belongings lined the walls. A simple white dresser stood next to the white bookshelf on the far wall. I take a deep breath and fall to my knees. I crawl to my makeshift bed and close my eyes. I imagine my mom was still here and Dad wasn't drinking. And I had a real bed. The pull of sleep beckons me and I give in, letting it pull me under.

 **Don't forget to R &R. Love you and TILL MY NEXT CHAPTER!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey guys! So in my last chapter I accidentally wrote that Daisy had brown eyes when I clearly stated that she had green eyes on the Chapter1. So sorry about that. ENJOY!**

I wake up to someone knocking on our door. I groan and lurch to my feet. Rubbing sleep from my eyes I stumble down the stairs, this time quietly, not wanting to wake Dad. I throw my hair into a messy bun and open the door. To my surprise, standing there was Keefe, Sophie's friend.

"Uh, hey. What..are you doing here?" I ask, shocked at his presence.

"I came to give you your book back. You left it at your locker." Keefe hands me _Black Beauty._

I grab the book. How could I forget it? I think to myself. I hug it to my chest and stand there silently. We stand there awkwardly, shuffling our feet.

"So how did you find where I live?" I finally ask him. Keefe's face takes on a sheepish look.

"I asked one of the kids at school."

"Who'd you ask?" I look at Keefe and find a slight blush on his cheeks.

"Doesn't matter," he says.

Another burst of awkward silence. I open the door wider and ask, "Do you want to come in?"

Keefe's nods his head and walks in. I close the door behind me and turn around. I find Keefe surveying my house. I suddenly became self-conscious of the mustard-colored kitchen counter and the dishes piled in the kitchen sink; of the crusty brown carpet in the living room. I set my book on the counter, glaring at its ugliness. Like it's the counter's fault.

"How about we go for a walk?" I offer, slipping on my Converse.

"Sure. That sounds fun; physical activity," Keefe answers.

I think about Dad as we head out. What if he wakes up when I'm gone? What would he do? I shake my head, ridding the thoughts. No, don't think about it. He'll be fine. Keefe and I will only be gone for little while, not long.

We head to Cup o' Java. I didn't tell Keefe that I already had coffee today, not wanting to ruin our walk. _Don't screw it up, Daisy. This is your first real walk with a friend. And a boy. Don't mess it up._

I take a deep breath and stuff my hands in my jean's back pockets.

"So how long have you lived here?" I ask Keefe.

"My whole life. I know this town like the back of my hand," he answers, smirking.

I nod. "I only just moved here; with my dad."

"I kind of figured that, since I've never seen you at school."

I blush and stare at the sidewalk. We make it to Cup o' Java and Keefe holds the door open for me. I nod my thanks and walk in. Keefe closes the door behind him and steps up beside me. We head to the counter and I'm surprised to see another barista instead of the girl with the piercing. I order my coffee (a caramel frappuccino), and Keefe told me to grab a booth.

I sit down and look at the people around me. One girl, a blonde with braids in her hair, smiled at me when she caught me looking. I smile back and look away. Another girl catches my eye. She had frizzy brown hair and a sneer permanently attached to her face. I remember seeing her around school, always terrorizing other kids.

She glances in my direction and (to no one's surprise) sneers. I glare at her and she rolls her eyes and turns away. While Keefe waits for our drinks, my mind wanders to Dad. Is he awake? Is he alright?Keefe comes to our booth and sets our drinks down.

"Finally, I was thinking you got lost on the way to our booth," I say to him, smiling to show I was kidding.

"Hey, this place is packed, so don't be surprised if I do. But, probably not, since I have a great sense of direction," Keefe answers, winking.

I roll my eyes. I take a sip of my drink and try to think of a conversation starter. Thankfully I didn't have to because Keefe spoke up.

"So tell me about yourself. Your family, pets, that whole pizzazz."

I finger my straw as I think of an answer.

"Well, my mom passed away six months ago, and I'm living with just my dad. No pets, unfortunately. But I want a puppy in the future." I laugh a little at the thought of a little puppy running around our house. "What about you?"

Keefe was silent for a second as he studied my face. I feel my cheeks heat up and I distract myself with my coffee. Keefe finally snaps out of it and smirks.

"Sounds like someone's eager to hear about my life. Kind of stalker-ish, if you ask me."

"You're the one who asked me first," I point out, actually pointing my finger at Keefe.

He holds up his hands and admits, "Yes, yes. Well if you really want to know. I live with just my dad, my mom's gone, not dead, but she left when I was young. No pets, not a lot of pizzazz. My life at home is kinda boring. But pulling pranks usually make up for the dullness." He smirks again and musses his hair.

I stare at him for maybe a second too long and look down. "Nice. Not about your mom, obviously," I add hastily, "that's not that nice."

Keefe stares down at his drink and says quietly, "Yeah. Not that nice."

We sit in silence for a while, sipping our drinks, until my phone beeped, telling my I had a text. I glance at Keefe and slipped my phone out. It was from Dad.

" _Where are you?"_ I read.

I wrote back. _"On my way home. Just went to Cup o' Java."_

I look up at Keefe and saw him staring at me. This time I stop myself from blushing and cleared my throat. "I have to go. Thanks for dropping off my book and stuff." I stand up and grab my empty coffee cup. Keefe rises too and says, "I'll walk you home. After all, I _am_ a gentlemen."

As we walked out, I tried to talk Keefe out of walking me home. But he insisted. I really didn't want him to see Dad. Not when he probably started drinking again. Even with my pushing, he refused. I sighed and gave up, kicking rocks while we walked. Oh how I hope Dad isn't mad.

 **THANKS FOR READING! TILL MY NEXT CHAPTER!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I don't own KOTLC, all characters and things associated with the books belong to Shannon Messenger.**

 **Ok I don't know if you guys know, but this is an AU story. So that's why the elves are human and their is human money and stuff. Just so you guys know and aren't confused.**

 **Keefe's POV**

Daisy walked beside me, jumping at the slightest noise. It didn't take a lot of effort to see that she was nervous. Of what, I didn't know. But I wanted to find out. And plus, I want to talk to her every chance I get.

"So, what's your dad like?" I ask, sticking my hands in my pockets.

Immediately from her facial expression I knew that was a touchy subject. Whoops.

"I mean, he has to be great since he's taking care of you by himself," I say, trying to fix her facial features into a smile. It didn't work. _Wow Keefe, you can talk smooth with Foster and not Daisy? Come on._ Daisy grimaced but quickly hid it from turning her head away from me.

"Well, he can be great. When he's isn't dri-" Daisy cut herself short then and faked a cough.

"I mean he's pretty great, yeah." Daisy blows a stray piece of brown hair out of her face and looks down.

"What about your dad?" Daisy asks after a moment of silence.

I hesitate a minute, trying to find an answer that won't give away that Dad is a total butt and a stick in the mud and always disappointed.

"He...can be a buzzkill sometimes," I decide to answer. I shrug my shoulders and wink.

"It totally ruins all of my pranks I pull on him." I muss my hair when Daisy turns to look at me.

"Right. He's the one who ruins them. Maybe they're just not that good." She smirks and I can tell she's trying to rile me up. It totally worked.

"My pranks are great. But some people don't appreciate them. It's an art form, I like to say. " I wiggle my eyebrows at her.

Laughing, Daisy rolls her eyes. " Fine, fine. But if you dare pull one on me, don't expect me not to get you back."

"You know that just makes me want to do it more, right?" I ask her, folding my arms across my chest.

Daisy playfully shoved me and laughed again. It made my heart thump when she laughed. It made her sound more young. A thirteen-year-old girl shouldn't have a worry crease between her eyebrows. _That's good ,Keefe, lightening up her spirits._ We quieted down and made our way back to her house.

Daisy immediately became somber when we reached her home. We stopped before the door and stood there.

"Thanks again for bringing my stuff here and for the coffee," she says.

"No problem. It was fun hanging out with you, New Girl."

Daisy blushed and looked down. Before I could make a joke about her red cheeks the door flew open. There stood a man that could only be Daisy's father. He had bloodshot green eyes, and stubble on his face. His brown hair was sticking up all over the place, and he leaned against the door frame.

His eyes pierced into me and, without taking his glare away from me, he asked Daisy, "Who is this?" When she didn't answer he turned to her.

"I asked who is this?"

"His name is Keefe, Dad. He's from school," Daisy mumbled.

Her dad glared at me again and pushed Daisy inside. I smiled and stared back at him. Hey, he couldn't be any worse then _my_ dad, right? He turned to Daisy and grumbled a few words that I couldn't hear. But I did see Daisy tense up. Mr. Corrigan turned back to me.

"Have a nice day," he growled. Then he shut the door right in my face. My smile fell from my face in surprise.

"Well nice to meet you too, Mr. Corrigan!" I call through the door.

 **Daisy's POV**

Holding back a scowl, I watch as Dad shuts the door in Keefe's face. I take a deep breath, preparing myself for Dad's alcohol smelling breath and the lecture to come. Dad walks to the kitchen table and falls into one of the chairs. He puts his head in his hands and curses.

I was shocked at his behavior. I was expecting a lecture, not this. Through his fingers, he tells me, "Catherine always warned me this day will come. How I hate the way I never listened to her." Dad brings his face out of his hands and stares at me.

I stared back, my mouth hanging open. Dad barely talked about Mom anymore. And when he did, it was when he had a beer bottle in his hand.

I stand still in my spot in the kitchen, my body tense. A part of me ached for Keefe to come back, but I pressed that feeling down. Dad silently pushed himself up from the table and walked to the door.

"I'll be back. Find something in the fridge for dinner," Dad's voice was now gruff.

I nodded and watched him walk out, my body deflating. I slump into one of the kitchen chairs and stare at my hands. They were dry, and calloused from my younger years climbing and swinging on the monkey bars.

I try not to, but I do. I think about how this was my fault. I should have stayed home and should've been here when Dad awoke. Then he wouldn't have gone to one of the many bars he lumbers to. I was tempted to run outside and shout after Keefe. But I stayed rooted to the chair.

I eventually get up and walk to the fridge. I open it and notice that there was barely any food left. I made a note in my head to go to the store later this week. I grabbed some cottage cheese and celery, and a spoon. I went back to the kitchen table and my seat. I ate my "dinner"-if you can even call it that-and headed up to my room.

I passed the bathroom and glanced inside. There, sitting in the shower rack, was Shea butter and vanilla scented shampoo. The same kind Mom used to use. I stopped when a memory surfaced from a deep place in my head.

~memory~

 _Tears streamed down my face, and I hiccuped from crying. I was five, nearly six, and I fell off my bike and scraped my knee on the cement._

 _"Momma!" I sobbed._

 _Mom came running from the garage and rushed over to where I was lying in the driveway._

 _"Oh, sweetheart. Did you fall off your bike?" She squatted next to me and gazed at my scrape._

 _I nodded and my helmet bounced against my forehead. Mom, with her graceful, delicate fingers, gently undid the helmet buckle and slid the helmet off. By then my hiccups have went away and the pain in my knee subsided a little._

 _"It's just a little scrape, Daisy. A band-aid and some medicine will heal you right up." Mom's hair tickled my cheek as she helped me to my feet. It smelled sweet and I recognized one of the scents was vanilla._

 _One last tear dripped from my eyes and Mom wiped it away with her thumb and smiled. Her smile alone could have calmed me down, but my mother's extra gentleness took the pain and tears away, and ceased the ache in my throat._

 _Together we walked-well I limped- into the house._

~memory~

I wiped my wet cheeks and cleared my throat. Oh, how I missed her. Her laugh, her eyes, her vanilla and Shea butter scented hair. I finished the trek to my bedroom and sat on my "bed". I got up after a moment and put on my pajamas. I then brushed my teeth. Getting under my blankets, I lay down and close my eyes. But the ache in my chest reminded me that Dad was not here and that I was alone.

I opened my eyes and checked my phone. The time read only 6:55. It really wasn't late, but I was tired. So I shut my eyes again and begged sleep to come.

...

I finally fell asleep around 8:00. Then I woke up from Dad's heavy footfalls coming up the stairs. I crawled out of bed and to the door. Peeking out I watched as Dad lurched to his room. When he passed my door, the smell of alcohol hit me. I gagged and crawled back to my pile of blankets. Looking at my phone again, it said the time was 12:30. I sighed and pulled the blankets to my chin.

This time it didn't take long to fall back asleep, because the ache had finally left my chest.

 **I hoped you liked this chapter. It's a little longer than the rest, I think, so yeah. Aaaannnddd, I just finished this really awesome book series called _The Claidi Journals._ They are so gooood! I highly recommend them. :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**This is the longest chapter I've written so far. Wow. Anyway, I read this story to my mom and her eyes were teary , she felt so bad for Daisy. And I was like, "Mom, it's okay bro." So yeah. Here it is. Enjoy!**

I wake up the next morning and can't believe that it's only Tuesday. I rub my eyes and shakily stand. I glance at the clock and see that it's 6:10. School starts at about 7:15. I head into the bathroom and close the door. I take a quick shower and throw on leggings and a blue Nike jacket. Brushing my teeth, I sneak a peek at the time again. 6:59. Crap. I'm going to be late. I threw my hair up in a high ponytail, spit, rinse, then ran out of the bathroom.

"Go, go, go, go," I chant. I grab my backpack and speed out of my bedroom. I'm halfway down the stairs when a thought entered my mind. Is Dad okay? I see that the time is 7:01 and sigh. I pound back up the stairs and to Dad's room. I crack the door and stick my head through. His messy hair peeks up from the covers. I watch for a minute and relax when I see his form rising and falling peacefully. I quietly close the door and race back down the stairs, out the door, and on the sidewalk.

I am _so_ going to be late. I sprint down blocks and slow down only a little bit when I see the pyramid-shaped school. I run through the empty courtyard and through the door. I jog to the front desk and the lady behind it glares at me while she hands me a tardy slip.

"Sorry," I tell her, breathless. "Woke up late."

I grab the yellow piece of paper and speed-walk to my locker. I open it and grab my books, still slightly panting. _Oh gosh_ , _come_ on, _Daisy, hurry up_ , I think. I slam my locker shut and turn to leave when I bump into someone. I yell in surprise and stumble. A hand reaches out and steadies me, and I straighten. I look up and meet icy blue eyes.

"What the heck? Keefe, are you trying to see what a heart attack looks like?" I say, tying to sidestep his muscly frame.

Keefe smirks and fold his arms while moving to block my way. "Of course, New Girl. I love watching peoples' oxygen-filled-blood flowing to your heart muscle being cut off."

I stop trying to get past Keefe and raise my eyebrows at him. "Where did you get that information, Heart Attacks for Dummies?"

Keefe shrugs and doesn't answer. Instead he takes a step to the left and cuts off my third attempt at escape. I groan in frustration and shake my head. "Keefe, I'm going to be late. And I have Ms. Galvin for first period. Can you, I don't know, get out of my way? Please?"

Keefe's stupid smirk is stuck on his face as he says, "Um, how about no. I need to ask you something."

I let out another dramatic groan and wave my hand for him to continue.

"You want to ditch with me?" The question takes me off guard and I stop my eyes mid eye-roll.

"Wha-no! Keefe I need to get to class before I get detention. And you should probably go too," I answer. Keefe's face falls in disappointment but it quickly takes up it't usual mischievous expression.

"Fine. Go be a perfect student. Just know, I will convince you someday to join me in the joys of ditching." Keefe wiggles his eyebrows and this time I don't stop my eye-roll.

"The joys of ditching. Right. I'll see you at lunch, Ditcher." I hurry past him and towards Ms. Galvin's classroom.

"Looking forward to it, New Girl!" I hear Keefe call after me. I wave without looking back and run to my first class.

I walk out of class, holding my detention slip, a scowl on my face. "Wow. I didn't know Ms. Galvin doesn't like her students being late to History," I tell Biana, glaring down at the ugly pink slip of paper.

"Yeah," Biana agrees. "I've heard that she's harsh but I didn't think she would hand out detentions on the second day of school."

I sigh and tuck the detention slip in my back pocket. I have to take it home and let Dad sign it and bring it back tomorrow. Like that's going to happen. Dad will most likely not sign it, and if he does, he's probably going to yell at me to stop doing stupid things and get to school faster. I feel my hands clench into fists and I tell myself to relax. _It'll be fine, Daisy. Totally fine._

When it was lunch, I decided that none of my other classes were interesting. The astronomy teacher, I forgot his name, nearly lulled me to sleep with his monotone teaching ways. The only thing that kept me awake was Biana constantly poking me in the side when my eyes began to close.

I stood in the lunch line with Biana and Sophie, who joined us back in the hall. They were talking about some prank that someone had pulled a couple years back. But I wasn't really paying attention. I was more focused on a certain frizzy-haired girl picking on a younger girl.

"Wow, Stella. I don't think you need all that food. I mean, you are already a little fat. You don't need anymore food in that chubby body," I hear her say. My blood began to boil and I step out of the line.

"Daisy, where are you going?" Sophie asks after me. I didn't answer, instead I stalked toward Stina and Stella. But before I got there, Stina grabbed Stella's soup bowl, saying, "Here, let me help you get rid of some of this. Oops!" Stina 'accidentally' spilled the warm soup onto Stella. Stella began to cry and her tray started shaking.

"Hey Stina!" I called. "How about you go back to the smelly cave you came from." I reached the bully and girl and gently pushed Stella behind me. I told her to go to bathroom and try to rub at her soiled shirt, while still glaring at Stina.

"Excuse me?" Stina sneered. "What did you just say to me?"

"Oh, so you're a witch _and_ short of hearing? What a great combination. It really fits you," I retort. I didn't notice that the lunchroom had grown silence and Keefe was quietly cheering me on.

"You should really shut up before I make you." Stina glares down at me and cracks her knuckles menacingly.

"Oooh, am I supposed to be scared? You're doing a crappy job of instilling fear, Frizzy," I tell her, giving her my own grin. To be truthful, I am actually scared of what Stina will do to me. But I can't show it.

"Frizzy? Really? Are you trying to make me shove you into a table?" Stina takes a step towards me.

"What do you think?" I ask her. Of course I wasn't trying to provoke her to violence. I just wanted her to know to stop bullying little kids or she'll be the one hitting a table.

"I think you are. So I'm going to fulfill your request." With that Stina lunged at me. I twisted out of the way but she caught me in the shoulder and brought us both tumbling to the ground.

"Woah!" I hear someone call out. "What is going on in here? Stina, get off of her right now!"

Stina gets up, but not before shoving my shoulders into the linoleum floor. I shakily stand and rub my throbbing shoulder. That's when I see Principal Leto stalking towards us. His face is a mask of anger, his eyebrows scrunched together and lips pressed in a line. He slips in the spilled soup but quickly regains his composure. Stina immediately put on her _I'm innocent_ face and points a trembling finger at me.

"Principal! Daisy attacked me and I didn't even do anything!" Stina's eyes well up with tears and she actually had the audacity to let one fall. Oh, how I wanted to punch her ugly face in.

Principal Leto stands in front of us and I see Stella standing behind him, eyes to the floor. She must have went to get him when I told her to get cleaned up. Smart girl. Principal Leto takes in our wrinkled clothing and messy hair. He opens his mouth to say something but got interrupted by a female voice.

"That is so not true, Principal Leto." Kiara stomped up to us and I can see the anger flash in her eyes. "Stina is lying. That's not what happened."

The principal raises his eyebrows at the blonde and asks her, "Care to tell us what happened, then?"

Kiara nodded and straightened her blue sweater. "Stina was picking on the little girl behind you and Daisy came and stood up for her. Things got heated and Stina lunged at Daisy."

"That is not-" Stina tries to object, but Principal Leto holds up his hands.

"Stella here _did_ tell me you were picking on her and spilled soup on her, and from her shirt and tears, I believe her. So Stina, you have detention for the next week and a half. Daisy, since you did get in a scrap with Miss Heks, your detention is extended to three days. And if any of you get in another fight in my cafeteria, there will be consequences," Leto announces, giving each and every student a hard stare.

That's when I noticed all of the kids in the lunchroom were staring at us. I flush red and scurry over to where Keefe was applauding me. "You go girl! That's how it's done," Keefe congratulated me as I sat down next to him. I feel my face heat even more at the praise and I look down. The cafeteria takes up it's usual noisiness and the lunch line starts moving again.

"Not hungry?" Keefe asks me, taking a bite out of his sandwich.

"Not anymore," I mutter, still staring at my hands. I can't believe I actually talked back to Stina; and by the way she's stalking out of the lunchroom, her minions following her, nobody has done it in a while.

Kiara comes to our table, a confused Dex trailing after her. "What did I miss?" he asks us.

"Nothing much," I answer at the same time Keefe says, "The best thing that I witnessed today."

I glare at him and he holds up his hands defensively, "Hey, I call it like I see it. And that was totally awesome. High-five!" Keefe holds up his hand and when I don't give him a high-five he shrugs and gives himself one. I roll my eyes and pat the spot next to me. Kiara sits down, giving me a hug. I freeze, surprised by the gesture. No one has hugged me for a long time.

"I agree with Keefe. That was so cool how you stood up for Stella. She's probably not going to receive Stina's crap for a while," Kiara tells me, smiling at Sophie and Biana as they come and sit with us.

"Daisy, that. Was. Amazing. I was about to talk to Stina myself but you beat me to it," Sophie says, her brown eyes twinkling.

"Thanks," I mumble. I didn't feel amazing. I actually felt a little sick. If Principal Leto didn't come in at the time he did, I would've walked away from that fight with more that a rumpled jacket. Biana echoed what Sophie said, giving me praise similar to Keefe's. Fitz joined us a moment later, oblivious to the cafeteria scene until Biana and Keefe filled him in and he gave me a high-five, followed by Dex's own awkward high-five.

I feel relief when the bell rings, signaling us that lunch was over. _Thank goodness_ , I think. I don't think I can handle anymore congratulatory hand slapping.

I open the doors to my house and step in. Dad is there, sitting in the living room. I can hear the t.v. blasting out the local news. The living room was nothing but a table, an old brown couch, and two used, very worn,La-Z-Boy chairs. I drop my backpack onto the kitchen counter and grab a can of Pepsi from the fridge.

"Daisy, you home?" Dad calls from the other room.

"Yeah!" I answer. I take out the detention slip from my back pocket and debate whether I should give it to Dad or not. Sighing, I take the slip and the can of Pepsi into the living room and to Dad.

"Here." I hand the slip to Dad, who was laying on the couch, and sit down on the floor next to him.

"What is this?" He asks, flipping the paper from front to back.

"A detention slip," I answer cautiously, preparing myself for the explosion of spit and angry words. But, surprisingly, none came. Instead came a heavy sigh and him saying, "Where do I sign?"

"What? You're not angry?" I ask, shocked.

Dad shrugged. "I was a teenager, too, you know. I got in trouble before. I was just waiting for you to bring one home sooner or later."

I stare at him, my mouth agape until he asks me again where to sign. I spring up and run to the kitchen, grabbing a pen. I head back to Dad and hand it to him, pointing out the line on the bottom of the slip. He messily scribbles his name onto it and gives the pen and paper back to me. "There."

I nod my thanks and go back to the kitchen, putting the pen away and the paper onto the table. Wow. I got off easier than I expected. Granted, I never expected to 'get off easy' in the first place.

I climb wearily into my make-shift bed. I finished the homework we were assigned, which was just drawing out constellations for Astronomy and reading a chapter from _Little Women,_ the book we are reading in English class. Ms. Galvin and the other teachers didn't hand out homework today, which was strange, since Ms. Galvin seems like the type pf teacher to assign her students to write a twenty page essay about the Civil War on the first week of school.

Dinner wasn't eventful. Dad and I just sat in awkward silence, the only sound was our silverware scraping against the paper plates piled with Chinese food. I excused myself and went to take a shower and do homework. Once I was finished with that it was 7:45. So I sat in my bedroom watching YouTube and going through Instagram for two hours. Healthy, I know.

Now it was almost ten and my body was fighting sleep. But I wanted to hear if Dad will go out on his late night drives. He will sometimes do thatsif he was trying to fight the urge to open a whiskey or Bud-Light.

I lay there, struggling to keep my eyes open. I finally relax when I hear Dad close his door and his floor boards creak from his heavy footsteps as he heads to his bed. I sink into the blankets and my pillow. The events from lunch were playing on repeat in my head, like a broken record only belting out one song over and over. I finally fell asleep to Keefe's applause echoing in my mind.

 **There it is, my lovelies. I hope you liked it. Love you and TILL MY NEXT CHAPTER!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hi, guys. Long time no see. Heh heh. So anyway, I'm so very sorry for not updating anything on here. I've started school and that's kept me very busy. Enjoy!**

The next morning I'm surprised to find Dad sitting at the kitchen table.

"Dad," I proclaim stupidly.

"Morning, Daisy." Dad takes a sip of his coffee. At least I hope it was coffee.

I stare at Dad for a moment, snapping out of it when he asks me what I was doing. I shake my head and mutter an apology. I open the fridge and is greeted with the depressing sight of an almost empty refrigerator. I sigh and shut the door, turning around to find Dad gazing at me.

"I meant to go to the store the other day," he tells me.

I give another shake of my head and answer him. "It's okay, I'm going to the store tomorrow or the day after. I just need to earn some more money."

"Here." Dad gets up and shuffles to the counter next to the fridge, opening one of its drawers. I watch him grab his worn brown wallet and open it, fumbling to get out two twenty dollar bills. I rush over to him and put my hand on his shaking one.

"Dad, it's fine. I'll use the money I earn," I try to convince him.

He tries to tell me that he's the one who should shop and he should use his money since this is his house. He then tries telling me that he earned this money for keeping the house tidy and food in the refrigerator. I internally scoff at that. He got fired from his job a couple months ago for not coming in for work. I have the bills to prove it stacked on the counter. I finally win him over and agree that I'll go and use my own money.

By that time it was time for me to go, so I say goodbye to a defeated father and head out the door, school supplies in my bag slung around my shoulder.. As I walk, I finger the detention slip that's sitting in my jean's pocket. Today is the first day of detention with the Wicked Witch of Foxfire Academy. I groan.

The fall breeze bites into the exposed skin on my legs, causing me to shiver. Stupid decision to wear jeans with holes in them. I pull the sleeves of my sweatshirt down over my hands and cross my arms.

I pass Cup o' Java, wishing I had money for a latte or hot chocolate.

"We have a car, why couldn't I just ask Dad to take me?" I mutter, the answer quickly surfacing in my mind. Because he doesn't care and/or has an excuse. Like we need to save gas for that road trip he promised me; or he needs to keep it spotless because the neighbor's car is shinier.

I break out of my thoughts when a gust of wind pushes against me. I hiss when the cold air punches me in the face. I'm about to cuss the weather when a car horn interrupts me.

"Hey, New Girl! Wanna ride? You look like you need one." I look to the road and find a messy-blonde-haired head poking out a blue car's window. Keefe.

"No, I like walking to school and freezing my butt off. I'm good," I call back.

"Suit yourself." Keefe pulls forward, about to drive off.

"I'm kidding!" I run to the moving car and yank the passenger door open. I climb inside, the heat hitting me.

"Thanks," I say breathlessly. I shove my backpack on the floor in front of me and put on my seat belt.

"No problem. I always help a damsel in distress."

I choose to ignore that comment. Keefe puts on a little gas and starts heading down the road. I sit there in silence, letting the hot air warm me up. I pull down the mirror and check my hair, expecting it to be tangled and wind-blown. A flushed teenager looks back at me...with messy hair.

I moan and pull my hair up in a bun, grumbling. I even brushed it this morning and everything. Stupid weather. I shut the mirror and look out the window, when I realize something.

I turn to Keefe. "Aren't you a little young to be driving?" I ask, taking in Keefe's appearance. He shrugs.

"In the perspective of other people, yes. But the sheriff loves me and she said it was fine. Plus, I'll be sixteen in, like, a year," he answers. Sixteen? Younger then I thought. I don't know what Level he was in; I didn't ask, so I didn't know his age.

"The sheriff told you it was 'fine'? I highly doubt that." I cross my arms and raise my eyebrows at him. Keefe glances at me and laughs.

"With a bit of begging and my puppy dog eyes, she gave in. But only to school, which is dumb, but whatever." He shrugs again.

"Begging?" I repeat. He looks at me a second time and winks.

"What can I say, girls dig me."

I make a show of gagging and sticking my finger down my throat. "Riiiight, okay. Whatever."

We pull up to the school and Keefe parks. I'm about to open the door and get out when Keefe locks it. "Wha-?" I turn to Keefe and find him really close to my face. My eyes widen but I don't back away.

"Come closer," Keefe whispers. His blue eyes are framed by his long blonde eyelashes, and I can't seem to look away. I do what he says and lean in closer. We were inches apart, and I could count his eyelashes if I wanted to. Keefe parts his lips and my heart starts to pound faster in my chest. I was sure he could hear it. Is he about to kiss me? I haven't even known him for a week.

Keefe's eyes are partly closed and he scoots just a little bit closer. My breathing becomes irregular and I'm pretty sure I'm about to pass out. His lips are so close and so pink. And then...he burps. And blows the stink into my face.

"Oh my-Keefe what is wrong with you?!" I exclaim, jerking back so fast I hit my head on the car window.

Keefe's cracking up so hard next to me. I punch him in the arm and unlock the door. I can't help but smile a little bit, but I'm a little angry for him wasting my time.

"Oh, your face was beet red. Ha! Priceless." Keefe finally composes himself enough for him to get out of the car. I stalk to the school, rubbing my aching head. Kids are talking in the courtyard, still feeling the first-day-of-school vibes even though it was day three. I should know, I feel it, too.

I hear footsteps coming up behind me and I don't need to turn around to see who it is. Keefe settles down next to me and matches my steps, occasionally giving people high fives and greetings. We enter the school in silence until Keefe stops me in the doorway by putting his hand on my arm.

"You know that was only a joke, right?" He asks me.

I roll my eyes. "Of course I do, Keefe. I know how to take a joke."

He nods and grins. "Good, 'cause you should be expecting more pranks from me."

I stare at him. Then I give him my own grin. "I can tell you the same thing."

It's his turn to stare. "Did you just declare war, New Girl?"

"You bet I did, Ditcher." With that I smirk, give Keefe a little bow, and walk away. If I had turned around, I would've caught Keefe gazing after me and shaking his head. Maybe I would have seen his pink cheeks. But I didn't turn around. I just kept walking.

I find Sophie walking to her locker and I run to catch up with her.

"Hey, Sophie," I greet, walking next to her.

"Hi, Daisy." Sophie smiles.

We chat for a minute, Sophie asking me about my life and me telling her that life was fine.

"How's your life?" I ask, approaching my locker.

She shrugs. "Busy. Between school, friends, and my parents' vet clinic, I have a lot to do." I look at her, eyes wide.

"Your parents have a vet clinic? That's so cool!" I tell her, smiling, an image of a horse galloping through my brain. She returns it. "It is. You should come over and help out with me, sometime."

I eagerly nod and ask for her number. Since I didn't have paper I grab a stray pen from my locker and let her write it on my arm. I do the same to her. We thank each other and she hurries off to her locker since class was about to start. I shake my head in wonder. Who knew I would make friends so quickly?

I grab my History textbook, notebook, my binder, and shut my locker. I'm walking to class when someone shoves me from behind, sending my books tumbling to the ground.

"Oops!" A girl's voice exclaims. I look up and my eyes meet a head of frizzy hair and a sneer. I growl. Stina.

"Better watch where you're going next time," she sneers, gazing with disgust at me.

"You should, too," I snap, crouching to grab my fallen items. I watch as Stina walks away, her ugly minions trailing after her. What a witch. I grab my textbook and start to reach for my notebook when a hand gets to it first. I glance up and find a pair of teal eyes and brown hair. I've seen him before. What's his name? Ah, he's Fitz. Even though I haven't even been here for a week, I know that Fitz is the boy your mom would want you to get to know a little better and possibly invite over for dinner.

"Thank you," I say as he hands my notebook over.

"Daisy, right?" Fitz asks me. I nod, grabbing my binder. We stand and face each other.

"I'm Fitz. I don't think we've properly met." He holds out his hand and I reach out and shake it.

"Nice to finally meet you. I've heard a lot about you." My face instantly reddens when I realize how that sounds.

Fitz gazes at me in amusement. "Yeah? Good things, I hope. I won't keep you any longer; class is about to start. I'll see you at lunch, Maisy!" He walks away.

I stare after him, and mutter, "It's Daisy."

I'm not late to class, but I was pushing it. I slip in and find an empty seat next to Biana. She smiles and waves me over.

I walk over and I'm about to set my stuff down when a hand shoots out and grabs my wrist. I jerk back in surprise and look to see the hand belongs to one of Stina's followers.

"Sorry, that seat is saved," she says, feigning an apologetic demeanor.

I see Biana open her mouth in protest and quickly try to interrupt her.

"Oh, ok. I'll go find a seat somewhere else." I smile at Biana and yank my hand from Minion 1.

Just as I sat down at a desk in the way back, Ms. Galvin strides in. She gives us a curt nod and her eyes linger in me.

I give her a small wave. She scowls.

"Hello, class. Hope you are all doing well-" I tune out there. It's probably good if I listen to her lecture today, but I'm not feeling very friendly with her since she gave me a detention. Which starts today. So my feelings towards her aren't good ones.

I glance around her classroom, taking it in. I didn't have much time yesterday or the day before to really explore it. It had windows that are rumored to be from the old school structure, which some say used to be shaped like a pyramid. The windows covered the entirety of the left wall, displaying the red and orange leaves on the trees. On the right wall is shelves full of historical artifacts and pictures of certificates and awards, no doubt belonging to Ms. Galvin.

In the back behind me, were stacks of old textbooks; the top books looking old and worn. Probably the destroyed books from the kids of past History classes. I can't really blame them, this class is severely boring.

"Daisy," someone snaps at me. I whip around to find Ms. Calvin and the class staring at me. I redden.

"Y-yes?" I ask weakly.

"Were you listening?" Ms. Galvin's gaze penetrates my own, seeming like she's looking right through me. I don't answer.

"Well? Were you, or were you not listening?"

I gulp and look down. "I was not, ma'am."

The class buzzes with muffled laughter. I sink into my seat and await Ms. Galvin's punishment. But none comes.

I glance back up and find that the teacher has turned away. "Pay attention." That was her answer.

I gasp in relief and try to tune out the snickers of my classmates.

"You got lucky," a voice whispers into my ear. I turn my head and see a boy sitting next to me, eyes straight on the board but his head slightly inclined towards me. I don't know how I didn't notice him, with his head of black hair and his books almost taller than him, he wasn't hard to miss.

"I'm Jensi," he whispers again, slowly inching his hand out and offering it. I glance at Ms. Galvin, who was dealing with another student (looks like he shoved a pencil up his nose out of boredom and couldn't get it out) and shook his hand.

"Daisy," I answer, hastily pulling my hand away when Ms. Galvin stood up straight and sent the kid to the school nurse.

Jensi bobs his head in greeting, almost slamming his head into his stack of books. I cover my mouth to hold in a laugh, and train my eyes back on Ms. Galvin. At the end of class she handed the class homework, and when she got to my desk she reminded me about my detention. As she walked away Jensi leans over and asks, "What did you do to get a detention?"

"Well," I say. "I got into a fight with Stina and was late to this class."

"Duuude." Jensi stretches the word out in appreciation.

I blush and duck my head. "It's not something to be proud of," I mutter. But I'm lying to myself. I kind of am proud, and ashamed because I feel proud. I stuff my homework into my binder and stand up, gathering my things. Jensi follows me and Biana out of the classroom, talking a mile-a-minute to Biana. I couldn't catch what he was saying to her; just chatter, chatter, chatter.

By the time lunch came around, my stomach was growling. I only had a little bit for breakfast and my appetite was growing by the second. I rushed to the lunch room and snatched up a tray. Today was a bologna and cheese sandwich, with a side of fruit. I grabbed it all and looked around the lunchroom. My eyes stopped on Sophie, who was waving me over. I start over there, when a hand grabs my arm. I stop and hear someone ask, "You want to sit with us?"

Jensi grins and gestures to a table in the back of the cafeteria. I internally grimace when I catch sight of greasy, pimply, boys. But I nod. "Sure."

I nod to Sophie and she smiles in understanding. I follow Jensi to the table and sit down in between him and another boy. I smile at them and say hello. One of them stares at me and drools. My eyes widen but I blink and look away from the drop of saliva. I gulp, realizing that what I was thinking was mean. I shake my head and take a bite of my sandwich, grateful for Jensi for his non-stop talking.

He introduces me to his friends and each one grins and stares.

"I told you guys not to stare," Jensi hisses, glancing at me.

I cover my mouth to stop from laughing. "Jensi, it's okay."

Jensi doesn't answer, instead he glares at the rest of the boys. I take another bite of my sandwich, and gaze around the lunch room. My gaze rests on Keefe, who was sitting next to Biana, who was sitting with Sophie. Fitz was there, laughing at something Sophie said. Keefe was leaning forward, talking to Dex, and Biana was crowding next to him, hanging on every word he was saying.

Jensi follows my gaze and says, "You can go sit with them, if you want. It was stupid of me to bring you over here."

I look at Jensi and flush. I was caught. "No, no. It's fine. I-like sitting with you guys."

I am saved from Jensi's response by Kiara. "Can I sit here?" She asks, setting her tray down next to another greasy boy.

"Sure," I answer quickly. Kiara was wearing a floral romper today, which I noticed because everyone at the table was staring at her. I clear my throat and the boys flush and start to eat. I finish my sandwich and eat my fruit, my hunger gone. Kiara was talking to Jensi, and smile at me when I get up to throw my trash away. I smile back.

I dump my trash in the garbage can and set my tray onto the table next to it. I'm brushing my hands off over the trash can when someone pokes me in the hip. I shriek and whip around. Keefe and Biana are standing there, laughing. My face reddens, and I clutch my tender side. I look past them and see Sophie, Dex, and Fitz laughing as well. But Sophie's face held slightly apologetic look on it.

"Guys!" I exclaim. The lunch lady next to me glares and shushes us. Some kids were staring at is as well.

"Oh, man. That was funny." Biana wipes a tear away from her eye. I realize that that was probably what they were talking about earlier. Planning to play a joke on me. For the second time today.

Even though I wanted to be mad at them, I giggle. "You guys suck," I tell them.

"We do not. The Keefester doesn't do _suck_." Keefe finally gets control over himself and wiggles his eyebrows at me. I roll my eyes and stick my tongue out at both of them.

"I'm sorry, Daisy. But Keefe's puppy dog eyes are very hard to resist," Biana apologizes, wrapping me in a hug.

"It's okay," I say, still a little uncomfortable with hugging. My mind flashes to what she said and I can't help but think that now two people think that Keefe's puppy dog eyes are too hard to say no to.

Keefe offered to drive me home, but I declined, not wanting him to have another opportunity to pull something on me. I start heading down the sidewalk, marveling at the trees and leaves. I startle when a voice comes up behind me.

"Do you want a ride, Ma-Daisy?" I turn and see Fitz pulled up beside me in a fancy sports car. I stand with my mouth open at the Vackers. Biana had sunglasses on and she was grinning.

"You're coming to our house to hang out! If it's okay with your parents, of course," Biana yells, leaning across Fitz. He pushes her off his lap and waves his hand. I still stand there. I'm getting invited over, now? Holy crap, they must really like me.

"You coming or not?" Biana asks.

"Heck, yeah!" I jog towards the car and slide into the back seat. I shoot a text to Dad, telling him that I'm going to be home later and that I'm studying at a friend's house. I don't know if we were going to study, but I'm just happy that I have friends.

 **Word Count: 3,341 (Minus the A/N's)**

 **A/N: Hello, my lovelies! I hoped you liked this chapter. I think it's the longest I've ever written! Haha. Be on the look out for an FWF (Fighting with Fear) update. I haven't abandoned it, I've just been taking an unscheduled break. *Laughs nervously* I've been writing the next chapter, it's just been very slow.**

 **Thank you for reading!**

 **Love,**

 **P.S. Sorry for any grammar, spelling, etc. I don't really have time to go over it. Love you, guys!**


	7. Chapter 7

**_You're coming home, right now. You said you were going to the store._**

I stare at Dad's text and play with the idea of ignoring him. I didn't. **_I'll go tomorrow._**

I shut off my phone so I don't see his reply.

"How was detention?" Biana turns around in her seat and looks at me.

I groan and roll my eyes. "It was terrible! Ms. Galvin made me and Stina sort through _all_ the old books in her classroom. I'm pretty sure I sneezed more today than in my whole life. She also yelled at us every time we accidentally dropped a book; which I understand, but still. And to top it all off, Stina would make rude comments about me under her smelly breath. Ugh. "

Biana laughs. "I'm sorry. That does sound horrible. At lease you get to do it all again tomorrow." I lean forward and punch her in the arm.

"You're sooo funny," I tell her.

"I know."

***  
Holy balls. The Vackers' place is ginormous. Sure, I've seen mansions before; but this wasn't a mansion. It was a _castle._ Fitz and Biana's house looked like it was made of crystals. It shone, sparkled, gleamed. It had pillars, balconies, adjoining little houses; a giant twinkling gate; stories of floors. It was simply stunning.

My mouth hung open, and my eyes widen it shock. "Wow," I breathe. "This is incredible."

Fitz chuckled. "It's nothing special. Just our home. But, thank you."

I shake my head. "Nothing special? This place looks like it came straight out of a fairy tale!"

Fitz, aka , drives the car down a winding driveway lined with, if this is even possible, sparkling trees. We drive past the ho-I mean castle, and I gape at it through the car window. We reach a garage which was the size of my house, and parked in front of it.

"I don't think we should show Daisy the garage, she might have a heart attack or something," Biana told her brother.

I don't wait to hear Fitz's answer, I step out of the car in amazement. "You're home is so beautiful," I compliment, spinning around to take it all in.

"Thank you!" Biana comes up next to me and loops her arm around mine, dragging me towards the house.

"I can't wait to show you my bedroom." Biana smiles at me.

Fitz locks the car with a press of a button and follows us, walking on my other side.

"So, Daisy," he says. "How old are you, exactly?"

"Um, I'm almost fourteen," I answer, my eyes trained on a particularly pretty tree with flowers growing on it.

"Oh, ok. Did you just move here?" He asks.

"Yeah, with my dad. Why?" I finally turn to him and raise my eyebrows. "Trying to unlock the stalker achievement or something?"

Biana laughs. "Yeah, Fitz. You do sound like a creep with the questions."

Fitz blushes. "No, no. Just curious."

I hum, staring at him. "Right." He looks at me and I wink, grinning.

Biana pulls me up to the tallest front door I've ever seen and opens it, bringing me inside. Once again, I feel my mouth fall open. "Oh my-" my words die on my tongue. The inside was even more spectacular. There was a grand staircase leading to higher levels and archways tower over many hallways. Everything was glistening, and I mean everything. Even the doors somehow had an unnatural shine to them.

Before I could take in anything else, a certain someone walks up to us.

"You're finally here! I knew it would take a while to get here, since Fitz drives like my grandma, but dude." Keefe walks up and slings an arm around Fitz's shoulders.

"Hey, New Girl," Keefe smirks at me.

"Hey, Ditcher."

I jump when Sophie appeared next to me. "Oh my g-oh hey, Sophie. You scared me."

"Sorry!" She smiled apologetically.

I wave off her apology. "It's cool."

"Ready to play capture the flag?" Keefe asks, doing the weird hug and slap every guy seems to do with Fitz.

"Yeah!" The group answers in unison.

Except for me.

"Wait, I thought we were studying," I say, confused. Capture the flag? Running?

"Psh, like we study. Who does that?" Keefe walks over to me and throws his arm around my shoulders instead.

"How about people who want good grades?" I shrug off his arm.

"Good grades don't define who a person is. Capture the Flag does that for you." Keefe grinned and looped his arm through mine. "C'moooonnn, New Girl, don't be such a party-pooper."

"Hmmmm." I wasn't so sure. I'm not the fastest, or prettiest, runner ever. I actually looked like a Dodo bird when I run, according to a past friend. It was when Keefe started singing the 'Party-Pooper' song that I relented.

"Fine," I sigh. "I guess it wouldn't be so bad. Even though it involves running. Ungracefully."

Keefe cheers, and the rest join in. I flush and look down, taking my arm out of Keefe's. "That's the spirit!" Keefe exclaims, punching the air.

We drop our bags in Biana's room (which was very girly, by the way), and head to their backyard. I hold in my gasp this time. Their backyard was huge, and kind of woodsy, a great place to play Capture the Flag.

"Okay, I call Foster on my team!" Keefe shouts, dragging a blushing Sophie to his side. "And I get New Girl, so I can show her the ropes," he adds hastily as Fitz grins at him.

"Wait," I say as I count the opposing team. "Don't Fitz and Biana need another player?"

I look towards Keefe for an answer and see him hold up three fingers. "Two..." He smirks. "One..."

"I'm so sorry I'm late!" Dex apologized as he sprinted to us on the count of zero, his messenger bag flapping against his side. "I was helping Kiara with her homework at school."

He arrives next to us and pants, his hands on his knees. He points to Biana and Fitz, then to himself. "You're on their team," I comfirm, nodding.

"Okay, sweet." Dex walks over there and dumps his bag on the ground. "Hey, why don't we get Sophie?" He whines, actually taking a good look at our team.

"Because I called her first. Team Foster-Keefe! Er-Team Foster-New Girl-Keefe," he adds, when Sophie and I both turn to him with crossed arms.

"This is our territory," Sophie says, pointing from one side of woods to a tree in the middle.

"Okay, and this is ours'." Fitz points from that same tree to the other side of the woods. "Does anybody have the flags?" He asks, patting his pockets.

Keefe smirks and whips a red flag and a blue flag out of his back pocket. "The Keefster is _always_ prepared."

"Except when it comes to school," Sophie mutters next to me, nudging my elbow. I cough to cover my laughter, but both Sophie and I fail.

"Ready?" Keefe asks, squatting and jumping back up to stretch. Sophie and I swallow our laughter.

"Um, no. I don't know how to play," I admit, sheepishly rubbing my arm. I don't like a lot of physical activity, unless it involves horses, so I avoided games like this at all costs. Even if it meant hiding in the bathroom until the end of P.E. class, which I once did a couple years ago with my friend Leah.

"Two teams try to get the others' flag, is the simple version. Here's the more complex one: One or two people guard while your teammates run and sneak to get the opposing team's hidden flag. You can hide it wherever you want, but a little bit of color from your flag has to be visible. If you are tagged while getting the others' flag your team loses," Sophie explains, her hands waving in the air as she talks.

"Okay, I think she gets it," Fitz tells her, taking a hold of her hands and forcing her to stop. She blushes and drops them to her side. But before they do, I notice matching rings on their hands. I grin, and lock eyes with Keefe, who noticed, also. He wiggles her eyebrows at me, and I giggle, covering my grinning mouth with my hand. There is going to be some serious teasing later. I take a deep breath and battled the silliness down into my stomach.

"I'm ready," I announce, anticipation bubbling into my chest. "Let's do this."

The anticipation quickly died when I was appointed as guard of the flag.

"But, why?" I ask, crossing my arms. "I mean, I know I'm not the fastest, but I can probably hear the others and tag them on my way to their flag."

"Because Sophie has this weird talent of running super fast, so she's definitely on the front lines. I'm fast, too. We need _someone_ to guard the flag," Keefe counters, gesturing to it.

We decided to hide the flag in a hollow in a big oak tree at the very end of our territory. The tree sat in a clearing,  
surrounded by a circle of trees. A little of the flags blue color peeked out of the hole in the tree, but it wasn't blaringly obvious. It took a medium jump to reach it, but someone of Dex's height could probably get it down.

I look up at it, frowning. "Fine. I'll give you the benefit of the doubt and not take it as a fat joke, okay? And Sophie's talent is called sprinting."

"You're not-" Sophie's sentence was cut off when a yell from Biana signaled the game has begun. I shoo them. "Go. Go!"

Sophie and Keefe took off in different directions, the trees and bushes waving goodbye and good luck to them. I wave, also. "Bye."

As I stand there, I think about what Sophie was probably going to say. "You're not fat." I knew I wasn't, but I couldn't help but think that I wasn't as skinny as her and Biana were. My mom used to say we were 'thick, dark, beauties' due to our dark hair and tan skin. I was curvy, too. So finding the right type of jeans and comparing my body to others' was a challenge. I smile when a memory of shopping with my mom surfaced in my mind. We were at a Macy's and trying to find the right pair of jeans. They were either too small or too big, and both of us were getting increasingly frustrated.

"This is terrible! Why can't we find you a nice pair of sweatpants or something? Pants that are actually comfortable," my mom exclaimed, throwing down a pair of jeans that cut me off in the midsection.

"Because I have to have at least one pair. I can't wear sweatpants my entire life," I told her. I picked up some jeans that 'fit all sizes'. I snorted and put them down.

"Who said you couldn't?" She asked.

"Society."

"Well, society's shouldn't influence your choices. Especially for fashion. Have you seen what girls your age are wearing now-a-days? Pieces of fabric that reveal too much!"

I laughed. That is pretty true.

I'm suddenly snapped out of my mind when a twig snaps near me. I startle and snap to attention, searching the foliage around me.

 _It's got to be Fitz,_ I guess. Biana looks fast, but she's got sharp eyes, something I learned when she spotted a pair of diamond earrings one girl was wearing in the busy, crowded, school hallway, so she would be a good guard. It might be Dex but he doesn't seem very familiar with these woods. Granted, I'm not either.

Another twig snaps and I catch a glimpse of green. The color shirt Fitz was wearing today. I only noticed because his biceps looked kind of good in it and- I jumped when a person rushed out of the trees and towards me. I was right. It was Fitz.

I spring into action and rush in his direction, hand outstretched to tag him. I stumble before I reached him, though, and he darted past me, laughing.

"Oh no you don't," I mumble, whipping around and sprinting for him. Fitz was so close to the flag. But, maybe I could make it. My heart pounds in my ears. My gaze locking on Fitz.

He was setting up to get the flag when I run up, jump, and tackle him, sending us tumbling to the ground. We land with a grunt, him on top of me. The breath gets knocked out of me and I gasp, trying to suck in a breath. Fitz groans.

"We wi-oh, are we interrupting something? I didn't know it was _this_ type of game." Keefe comes into the clearing, his smirk looking a little forced, followed by Dex, Biana, and Sophie.

"I'm so sorry," I rasp to Fitz, blushing. "I didn't mean it to end up like this." I look down at our position, my face turning redder at how wrong it looks.

Fitz scrambles up off me and holds out a hand, his own face mirroring my own. "Sorry," he mumbled as I take his offered hand. I stand and brush the dirt off me, trying to ignore Keefe and Biana's snickering. But a stinging in my arm makes me take in a sharp breath.

"What's wrong?" Biana asked, moving closer. Her laughing ceases.

I pull up the sleeve of my hoodie when I notice that red was staining it's normally navy blue color. I wince when I find a large gash cutting through the numbers of Sophie's number on my arm. Probably the cause of landing on a stick.

"Ouch," I mutter, biting my lip to stop my face from reacting to the throbbing in my arm. It feels like a bunch of hot rocks were pulsing under my skin.

"Oh my gosh. Here, let me take you to the house, we have a first-aid kit in one of the bathrooms." Biana takes my arm in her hands and examines the wound. "We also have some stain-remover for your sweatshirt."

"I'll go with you," Sophie says, walking up to me.

They start to lead me to the house. "Wait," I tell them, flinching when I bump my arm. I carefully make my way over to Fitz, cradling my aching appendage. I tap him on the shoulder. "Just in case you accuse me of not tagging you. Even though we were very much touching." I laugh at Keefe, Dex, and Fitz flushed faces, wincing again when my arm screams in protest.

"Okay, let's go." I turn back around and walk with Sophie and Biana to the house, grinning when I hear Dex whisper, "Very much touching? That sounds so wrong."

 **A/N**  
 **Hey, guys! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. It was really fun to write. Sorry for any mistakes that might be in here, I had to write it on my iPod. Don't forget to R &R. I love it when I get reviews, it boosts up my motivation, hahaha.**  
 **Thank you for reading and TILL MY NEXT CHAPTER.**  
 **~Author**


	8. Chapter 8

I hissed as Sophie cleaned the gash with a cotton ball soaked in peroxide.

"Sorry. I know how bad this stings." Sophie looked up at me apologetically as she continued.

"Yeah?" I said through clenched teeth. I was curious of her answer.

"Yeah. I scraped myself before when we played this. I fell out of a tree." The phone number started to wear away from the peroxide, but since I've stared at it many times I've got the number sequence emblazoned in my head.

I laughed but gasped when Sophie gave one last run with the cotton.

"Sorry," she repeated, and to my relief, set the cotton ball aside. Biana walked into the bathroom at that moment with stain-remover and leapt onto the counter next to me.

"You'd do well with a distraction," she told me, nodding her head matter-of-factly. She grinned at me and suspicion entered my body.

"Okay," I replied warily, glancing at Sophie. Her brown eyes glinted with mischief as her gaze met mine.

"So. You and my brother? Very interesting sight we walked into." Biana giggled as I glared at her.

"We just met, Biana. And he's older than me!" I told her, resting my arm on my thigh as Sophie went to grab the gauze and bandage.

"So is Keefe! And you gotta admit, both of them aren't ugly," Biana countered, lightly shoving my shoulder. Who would've thought that two girls that I met only days ago would feel comfortable enough to tease me like this?

"Well, yeah. They are quite cute," I muttered, my cheeks reddening with the confession.

"So..." Biana prompted, leaning closer to me.

"So...?" I asked, leaning away.

"Do you like any of them? Even Dex?" Biana's white teeth gleamed in the bathroom light.

"N-no!" I stuttered, quickly training my vision on anything other than Biana's teal eyes. My own green ones landed on the bandage Sophie was now wrapping around my arm, the gauze underneath. I don't know how I was going to hide this from Dad.

"You have to at least have a little crush on one of them." Biana's words caused a blonde boy with blue eyes to fill my head, and my cheeks deepened in color and heat.

"No," I said firmly, shaking my head. "I don't." _I can't,_ I thought. _Who would want the daughter of an alcoholic to be crushing on them?_

"Okay," Biana said, stretching out the word. "Whatever you say." She winks at Sophie who winks back, both of them snorting with amusement.

"Guys," I groaned, suppressing a giggle. "I don't know why I hang out with you."

"Because you love us," Sophie said, making a kissy face at me.

"And our really attractive male best friends," Biana added, earning another moan from me.

Sophie secured the bandage on my arm, giving it one last tug. "Okay, that should do. The gash will be completely healed, probably, in a couple weeks, so keep it easy-going. It _might_ scar but it won't be very noticeable."

I nodded, ready to be done with, and hopped off the counter, Biana next to me when the boys busted into the bathroom, scaring us. Biana screamed next to me, her nails digging into my forearm from when she grabbed onto it.

"Keefe!" She gasped, holding a hand onto her heart. "Can you not? What if we were using the toilet or something?" She shoved her brown hair away from her eyes, glaring daggers at him. But she had a slight blush on her cheeks.

Keefe raised his eyebrows as laughter poured out of him, Fitz, and Dex. "Then we would've seen quite the sight, wouldn't we? More than we expected."

"Keefe, that's disgusting," Sophie and I said in unison, clutching each other.

"What we saw probably would've been, too." Him and the others doubled over in laughter as we pushed our way past him, while I was holding my bandaged arm above my head so it wouldn't bump into anything.

"How's your arm, Daisy?" Dex asked. He was the only one composed enough to talk.

"Hurts, but I'll live," I answered with a smile. He blushed and looks down, stumbling when Keefe used his arm to pull himself off the ground from when he dramatically fell when he was laughing.

As we walked to Biana's room, I glanced out the windows, my breath catching in my throat. "Oh no." The sky was pinkish orange, clearly portraying that it was evening. Way past the time I had set to be back home in the car.

I fumbled for my phone as we entered Biana's room, impatiently waiting for it to turn on.

"What's wrong?" Sophie asked, her eyebrows crinkling with concern.

"I'm so late. I have to get home," I muttered to her. I was too busy with my phone to look her in the face. The screen burst to life, and I glanced at all the messages I missed from Dad. Most of them containing messages to 'come home right this second'.

I slipped my phone into my pocket and grabbed my bags, shuffling out of the way when Fitz and Dex flopped onto Biana's bed.

"I can take you," Keefe volunteered before I could ask.

"Thank you," I said, ignoring Biana and Sophie's snickering. "I'll see you guys later?" Both of them nod as they grinned at me. I rolled my eyes at them and turned to Keefe.

"Ready, Freddy?" He asked can twirling his car keys in between his fingers. I nodded. "Let's roll, butthole," I answered.

We left the room after we each gave a quick wave to the others, speeding down the grand staircase, through the foyer, and out the massive, shiny, front doors. I didn't notice Keefe's car earlier, as I was so entranced with the Vackers' house. And sadly, I didn't get to meet their parents, but I have a feeling I will.

I slid into the passenger seat as Keefe for in the driver's.

"Aren't you only supposed to drive to school?" I asked him as I shoved my backpack onto the floor.

He shrugged. "Don't call the police on me, but yeah." He smirked at me as he pulled out of the driveway.

I shook my head and stared out the window, imagining what Dad would say when he saw the same boy I hung out with earlier drop me off.

Probably not a lot of good things.

Keefe and I sat in silence for part of the drive, the stillness in the air finally broken by Keefe's question. "So, how is your arm, really?" His gaze flickered to me. And was that, _concern_ , in his eyes?

My cheeks heat up as I stared down at the stark white bandage wrapped around my arm. "It's killing me. I didn't think to ask for Ibuprofen or Tylenol," I admitted, biting my lip. I'm sure we have some at home, for the days Dad wakes up with headaches, but now that I mentioned it to Keefe, I notice how bad it was throbbing.

Keefe doesn't say anything as he turns the car around, heading in the opposite direction, away from my crappy little house.

"What are you doing? My house is that way." I jerked my thumb behind my shoulder, pointing.

"We're not going to your house," he said.

"Then where are we going?"

"To my house."

It wasn't the castle that I was expecting, but it was still extremely impressive and big. Keefe's home was built like a skyscraper, but much taller than the ones I've seen. An archway marked the beginning of the driveway. Their mailbox read Candleshade.

"Everyone is rich here, my goodness," I mumbled, finding it hard to tear my eyes away from the building. Keefe snorted next to me as he pulled into the long path to the garage.

He parked and we got out. I was holding my arm against me, growing accustomed to the pain.

"Why are we here, exactly?" I asked Keefe. He led me to the house and opened a hidden back door, sweeping me inside.

"My house was closer and I happen to have pain-killers in my bathroom." Keefe's house was less inviting than the Vacker's. It was cold, dark, and grey; everything Biana and Fitz's house wasn't.

Keefe seemed to know what I was thinking. "It's not as happy and bright as Everglen, if you think about it, it's the opposite of my personality." Keefe held his hand flat under his chin, grinning and shooting me a wink. Somehow, the place got a little brighter after that. We shot up the grand staircase, my breath coming in short spurts. When we reached the level Keefe's room was on, I had to bend over and put my hand on my knees.

"Wow, work out much?" Keefe teased, walking in front of me. I glared up and held up three fingers.

"Read between the lines, buddy." I grinned as Keefe backed off, hands in the air. I glanced around, and a room with a cracked door caught my attention.

"I'll go grab the medicine. Hang on a sec," Keefe said, jogging down the long hallway.

I nodded and when he disappeared into a room, I crept to the ajar door. I peeked in and found a pile of pink slips on the floor. I squinted and pushed the door open a little farther, trying to get a better look.

"Don't bother. It's a room of disappointment." I jumped and spun around, heart thundering. A man stood there. He had the same blonde hair as his son, and the same blue eyes. But his hair was neat, and his eyes didn't hold the same warmth or mischief.

"Hello," he said. His voice sent a chill down my spine.

"Um, hi," I stuttered out, pulling the door shut and backing up against it.

"Are you a friend of my son?" His eyes flickered to my clothes and back up to my face. I swallowed.

"Yes."

"Hmmm," he rumbled, stepping closer. "Did he do this to you?" Keefe's father reached to my cast and traced the bandage. I shivered and pressed myself against the door.

"No, he didn't. I fell." I desperately wanted Keefe to come back, and wondered what was taking so long. My chest rose and fell rapidly. He was really close to me. Too close. I was about to tell him I had to get going when a voice made me pause.

"Father." Keefe's voice was cold and hard, and his eyes showed no warmth when they were on his dad.

"Son." Keefe's dad stepped back and fixed the tie he was wearing. "You brought a friend home."

"We were just leaving" Keefe answered, stalking up to me and stepping in front of me, blocking me from his creepy father.

"Go along, then," his father said coolly, stepping to the side. Keefe looked angry to be told what to do, but he remained silent. He grabbed my hand and pulled me away from his father, brushing past him and down the stairs.

"Nice to meet you, " he called out behind us. I stole a glance at his dad, but he vanished into the darkness of Candleshade. When we got to the bottom of the stairs, Keefe turned to me.

"Did he hurt you, Daisy?" Keefe's eyes roamed down my body, searching for any injury. I stayed silent during the trip down the stairs, as I wanted Keefe to calm down.

"No, no. I'm fine," I said. I carefully touched my bandage, and tried to erase the memory of Keefe's father's hands on it.

"Oh, right. Here." Keefe handed me three tablets of Ibuprofen.

"Thank you." I pop them in my mouth, not bothering with water, and force them down my throat. We walked back to the car, and I was glad to leave the skyscraper home behind. But, when I glance back at the building, a figure moved away from one of the many windows.

A/N:

Hey, guys. It's been a very long time. Very long. I have some updates, if you guys want to hear.

1\. I'm going to my school semi-formal with my best friend/crush. So that's pretty cool.

2\. Nightfall (KOTLC 6?) is coming out in November.

3\. Christmas came and went and so Merry really late Christmas.

And yeah. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Sorry for any mistakes in here I just wanted to upload something. Till my next chapter!


	9. Chapter 9

The ride home was silent and awkward, the only sound was when Keefe asked me if the medicine was working. After I assured him it was, we would lapse into another unbearable silence.

When I got home, Dad was besides himself.

"How can I trust you when you say you're going to one place and then actually going to another?" Spit flew from his mouth and one drop landed, unfortunately, on my lip.

Suppressing the urge to throw up, I wiped it away, making sure the sleeve of my sweatshirt was covering my bandage. My hand shook from the rage I was trying so hard to keep hidden. But my dad was making it near impossible.

"Dad, I went to study for school, it's not a big deal!" I threw up my hands and stalk away from my dad, throwing a dirty dish towel into the sink. I don't understand why he's freaking out about this. I've been the parent for the past 6 months; so why is he suddenly taking back the role again? He lost that right a long time ago.

"A big deal?! I'm trying to keep you safe and you're going to places and not telling me where! How am I supposed to keep you safe when I don't even know where you are?" I could feel the floor shake as his thunderous footsteps come near me. I clutched the kitchen counter and grit my teeth as Dad grabs my arm.

"Are you hearing me, Daisy?" Dad asked, breathing heavily. I don't answer. Dad's holding the arm that I hurt at Biana and Fitz's, and every time I move, his fingers dig into the bandage a little bit more. It's causing little knives to drag themselves up and down my arm.

Through my teeth I answer my dad. "Yes, I hear you. I'll go to the store tomorrow. I promise."

Dad doesn't let go right away, but when I keep my gaze fixed on the window above the sink, he lets go.

"I'm going to bed."

I didn't release the breath I was holding until I heard his bedroom door close, and I sagged against the sink. My arm was pulsing with its own ragged heartbeat, and I could still feel Dad's meaty fingers burrowing into my skin. The bandage could do a lot of things, but it couldn't block out the anger of my father. Nor could the medicine I just took. Nothing could could erase the pain.

I needed a distraction.

I slipped my phone out of my pocket and turned it on, bringing up my messages. I clicked onto a new message and typed in Sophie's number. Then I wrote my message.

"Hey girl, it's Daisy! Just wanted to make sure this is the right number"

I clicked send and grabbed a plastic bag from a kitchen drawer. If I want to take a shower, I can't get my bandage wet. I'd take a bath, but the tub hasn't been cleaned in a long time and I don't want to get some weird disease from it.

On my way to my bedroom my phone dings. I glance at it and see it's a text from an unknown number. I quickly recognized it as Sophie's and I eagerly click on it.

"Heyyy muchacha, como estás?"

I laughed at the message and reply.

"Someone's been paying attention in Spanish class"

A ding signals her answer.

"Duhhhh it's like my best class. I have a gift for foreign languages"

I walk into my room and shoot Sophie back a text.

"Obviously, mi amiga"

I randomly grab some shorts, a T-shirt, and some underwear from a pile on my floor and head to the bathroom. I avoid looking at the shampoo sitting on the bathtub's ledge and shut the door, making sure I lock it. I strip off my clothes and turn on my Spotify playlist. The music consisted of indie, R&B, and instrumental songs; songs I could easily lose myself to.

I wrestled the plastic bag onto my arm and tied it closed which a stretched out hair band. I turned on the shower and stepped into the bath, pulling the shower curtain closed.

The hot water burned my skin, but it felt good after awhile. The thoughts, worries, and fears of today swirled down the drain along with the water, and I relished the feeling of all the dirt and grime getting whisked away.

I forced myself to wash my hair with Mom's shampoo, and I sobbed as the smell hit my nose. I kneaded the shampoo into my scalp and rinsed it away with the hot water. The Shea and vanilla aroma surrounded me in the small shower, and the familiarity of it made my heart squeeze and ache. My mother smelled of this all the time, and I felt like if I used it, too, it would bring me closer to Mom.

The shower squeaked in protest as I turned it off and I winced as the sound pierced my ears. I quickly threw on my pjs—Christmas shorts and a Got Goats? shirt I got for free at a petting zoo—and took off the plastic bag. I grabbed my phone and shut off my music and saw multiple texts. One was from Sophie and one was from another unknown number.

"Lol. So how are you liking Foxfire? And, you know, how are you liking some certain boysssss?" Sophie's text cracked me up, and I covered my mouth with my hand as I laughed. My fingers fly over the little keyboard as I continue to chuckle.

"Sophieeee omg girl! I don't like anyone..yet" I add a smiley emoji at the end and then pull up the other text. My brow furrowed as I read them.

"Are you coming? You're like 30 mins late"

What? This person must have the wrong number. Another text sent a second later confirms it.

"I'm so sorry! Wrong number, lol."

I toyed with the idea of answering and playing along as the right number, but I don't. I just text a smiley face and thumbs up emoji and then delete the message. I gathered my dirty clothes and my phone as I open the bathroom door, the steam and the heat flying out into the hallway and out of the cramped bathroom.

The sky was dark by then and the time on my phone read 7:35pm. I threw my clothes in the wash downstairs and see that it's almost full. I sigh, grab the detergent, and pour some in. Then I turn the dial to On and shut the door.

I tiptoe back up the creaky stairs and to Dad's room. The floorboards groan in protest and I cringe as one screams particularly loud right in front of Dad's door. I freeze for a moment, and when I hear nothing from the other side of the door, I proceed with my check-in.

I slowly push the door open a crack, and I peek into the room. Dad's sitting on the floor with several beer bottles keeping him company, and my heart plunks onto the floor. My shoulders drop and my wet hair dripping onto my back sends chills scraping down my spine.

Not again.

I should be used to it by now, but for some reason, the sight of my drunk, alcoholic, father always surprises me. What happened to the man who would take me to the park when I was younger? What happened to the man who would never grip my arm so hard that it would leave bruises? What happened to the man that loved me more than his self-destructive escape of the world?

What happened to my dad?

•••

A/N:

So this chapter lowkey sucks. The tenses switch so much that it makes my heads spin, hahaha. But here it is! And I hope y'all enjoy it! Kind of a filler, but it's fine, whatever. Please please please review, I love it when I hear from you guys. Love you and TILL MY NEXT CHAPTER!

~A very much alive author


	10. Chapter 10

I was up most of the night and only got four hours of sleep. I spent the time I was awake reminiscing about before Mom died and Dad fell down a well splashing with beer. There are nights where this overwhelming weight crushes my chest, and my throat closes. Where my heart aches tremendously and barely beats. Where my memories are no longer the cozy films I lose myself to when I need to escape reality; but the horrible creatures with their razor sharp teeth that relentlessly gnash at me.

These are the nights where I'm really missing Mom, and I have to physically shut my eyes so I wouldn't have to see her in every little thing.

Some weeks I do better, and I feel like the grief is slowly starting to loosen its claws on me. But then I see Dad and I fall back down into the darkness. Like I did last night. 6 months isn't that much time, and occasionally my head feels like it's spinning just as much as it did when Mom was leaving.

I shake my head and groan as I look in the mirror in the morning. My eyes are red and swollen from crying and my nose is running, still. My face wasn't the only thing that ails me. My head was pounding from all the clenching I did so Dad wouldn't hear me cry, and my arm was pulsing to the beat of the drums between my eyes. My entire body felt like a train ran it over; along with my heart.

"I love life, right now," I mutter, turning on the warm water in the sink. "It's going superb and amazing. I wonder if it could get any better."

I cup my hands under the faucet and let the water puddle in my hands. Then I dunk my face in it. I keep my head in the water until my lungs were begging for air, and even then I wait a second before I lift my face and gasp.

I check on Dad before I leave for school. The thing about my dad is that when he drinks he's not like the people on tv. He has two personalities that come out when the alcohol kicks in. The super quiet one who isolates himself in his room; or the aggressive, angry, tyrant who's impossible to tame.

The latter rarely occurs, but it did once, right at the beginning. Dad was ballistic and nearly destroyed our old house. The only thing that stopped him was that he passed out before he could do any real damage.

Dad wasn't in his room when I opened the door, and the blood in my veins froze. The only thing that greeted me was his messy, smelly, bedsheets, half of them in the floor.

Where did he go? Is he okay? Did he leave in the middle of he night? What if he's hurt and lying in a ditch somewhere, drunk and cold? I barely hear the noise from the kitchen over my racing heart, but I do. I run downstairs and to the kitchen.

There I see Dad shakily scrawling words on a piece of paper, and my lungs suddenly start to work again and my heart stutters to its usual rhythm.

"Dad," I breathe, relief coating the name like sugar.

He looks up, his green eyes red and unfocused. "Daisy." He looks down at the paper like he just realized it was there, and glances up at me again. "I have the grocery list."

I walk over and examine the list, slowly letting my muscles become less tense. Eggs Milk Cheese Bread Cereal Toilet paper Soap Shampoo Okay, so we need the basic necessities. I can pick up anything I see that we might need when I'm there.

"This it?" I ask as I pocket the list.

Dad wasn't with me anymore. His eyes were now glassy and he was stumbling over to the couch. I watch as he falls into the cushions and buries his face into the pillows.

In a matter of seconds, Dad was here, if only a little bit, and then plunged back into his own head. I ignore the rising lump in my throat and grab my backpack. Dad was probably going to sleep the day away. I wouldn't be surprised if I found him in the same spot when I come home from school.

When I get to school, Biana and Sophie are waiting for me by the front doors.

"Hey, Daisy," Sophie says, smiling.

"Hey, guys," I greet.

"How's your arm? Did I do good playing doctor?" Sophie grins and Biana laughs.

I join in her giggles. "Yeah, you did great. It doesn't hurting that bad this morning," I lie. In all honestly, it's been bugging me since this morning and last night. But I took medicine after I brushed my teeth so it should be feeling better soon. I hope.

"Maybe I should be in the medical field for college," Sophie comments as we walk into school.

"Or a translator, since you're so good at foreign languages," I point out. Sophie snaps her fingers and looks at me with wide eyes.

"Oh my word, yes!" She exclaims, smiling. "I just found my career path."

"Woohoo!" Biana squeals, always the one full of excitement. She throws her jewelry covered hands into the air, turning the heads of everyone gathered in the auditorium. Sophie and I blush as the eyes of every kid landed on us.

"What are we woohooing about?" Someone asks behind us. We turn to see Dex standing there, with his-what I'm assuming to be-siblings. They look like triplets.

"Sophie knows what she's going to college for," I say, smiling at the younger Dizznee kids.

"Already? Don't we have awhile til then?" Dex ignores his little sister, who's tugging on his arm, and focuses on Sophie. She shrugs.

"Yeah, but it's always good to start early," she says.

"I guess," Dex says. He whips his head around to glare at his siblings, who all now joined on yanking his appendage.

"Guys, stop! Go find your class, or something." His veins were bulging from straining against the triplets' hands.

"Okay," one says, smiling deviously. In sync, they all let go of Dex's arm, causing him to smack himself in the face with the release of pressure.

I cover my mouth with my hand, trying to mask my laughter, and look to Biana and Sophie. They both were doing the same. Biana's teal eyes met mine and she was tearing up.

"Ugh!" Dex lets out a strangled cry as he glares at his fleeing siblings; who were cackling their heads off. Poor Dex's cheek was becoming a nice tomato shade of red, and his hand was rubbing it.

"Are you okay?" Sophie asks, failing to hide her amusement and smile.

"Fine," Dex mutters, still staring after the triplets. "Siblings just suck sometimes."

"Tell me about it," Biana says, rolling her eyes. "I have to live with a guy who spends, like, 4 hours on his hair every morning. Totally hogs the bathroom, too."

"I do not," a deep voice protests. Fitz walks over with Keefe in tow. "You're the one who has to do her makeup until it's perfect. And that doesn't take 3 minutes."

"Okay, but you do take a long time on your hair, dude," Keefe adds, smirking at Fitz's growing distress.

"No I don't! Sophie, tell them." Fitz turns to the blonde, but she shakes her head and holds up her hands innocently.

"Oh no. I am not getting in the middle of this again," she says.

The lights dimming cuts off Fitz's reply, and a hush falls over the students.

"Good morning, students!" Principal Leto greets, his face appearing on the wall. "Today is going to be a great day."

After Leto's daily pep talk, we all dispersed to our designated first classes. History was the last place I wanted to be, but it's not like I had a choice whether I wanted to be there or not.

I walk down the hall, alone, since Biana had to go to the bathroom before class started. I would've gone with her, but I didn't want to risk another detention from Ms. Galvin. I already have one today after school, and another one tomorrow.

I walk into class, and Ms. Galvin was already there, sitting at her desk. She glances up at me as I pass by. I smile at her, but she just looks down at her paper again. My smile drops and I fight the urge to roll my eyes. I can never win, can I?

I fall into my usual seat, and wait for Biana. But she doesn't show up when the bell rings. What happened? Did she get lost on her way here? That's not likely, she seems like she's been going to Foxfire for some time. Maybe she had to go home. Was she feeling sick? She didn't look unwell.

Finally, she shows up in the middle of Ms. Galvin's lecture. Her cheeks were flushed and her usually immaculate outfit was slightly wrinkled. She held a tardy slip in her hand.

Ms. Galvin pauses her lesson to receive the tardy slip.

"I am so sorry I'm late, Ms. Galvin," Biana apologizes, her perfect eyebrows scrunched up.

"Oh, it's quite alright, Biana. Take a seat." Ms. Galvin dismisses Biana's apology and tardiness with a wave of her hand. She didn't even give her a detention. My mouth drops open as Biana slides into her seat.

"What the heck? No detention?" I ask Biana, my voice quiet as Ms. Galvin resumes talking.

Biana I ignores me and leans closer. "You'll never guess what I just saw in the hallway," she whispers excitedly, her eyes lit up with the gossip.

"What?" I whisper back hesitantly. I never liked to participate in gossip; I always felt dirty and mean whenever I joined in with the other girls. I quickly stopped partaking in it, and either left or kept silent when it happened. But Biana perked my curiosity.

"Yeah, so—" Biana's cut off by Ms. Galvin.

"I excused your tardiness, Miss Vacker. Don't push it with talking when I am," she warns.

"Yes, ma'am," Biana says, straightening. When Ms. Galvin turns around she quickly adds one more thing.

"I'll tell you later." Biana winks at me and then focuses her full attention up ahead.

I do the same, my mind spinning with questions. What did Biana see? And do I really want to know? I knew the answer to the last question almost immediately. Of course I wanted to find out; once my curiosity has been risen, it's near impossible to put it to rest.

Now I really couldn't wait for History to be over.

"Okay, can you tell me now?" I ask Biana, walking out of the classroom. Biana pushes her hair behind her ears and opens her mouth. But before she could get a word out, Jensi interrupts her.

"Hey, guys! What's up?" He bounces up beside us, grinning from ear to ear. He reminds me of an overexcited puppy.

Jensi trails us to your next class, so Biana couldn't fill me in. I meet her gaze during one of Jensi's exceptionally long stories, and her gaze is apologetic.

"Later," she mouths.

I nod and tune in to Jensi's story.

"—so then I fell off and totally got some wicked bruises, but it was so worth it," he was saying. His hands flew around him while he talked, and his eyes were twinkling with the tale.

"Okay, Jensi, this is our class. We'll see you at lunch," Biana tells him, squeezing his shoulder.

"Okay! Catch you guys later." Jensi rushes away, surprisingly dodging the bodies of other students with a ballerina's grace.

"Wow. He's pretty special, isn't he?" I comment, staring after him.

"Oh, yeah. I've known him since he was a kid, and he hasn't changed a bit. He's always been like that. Grown a a couple inches, but only a little," Biana answers.

The next classes were boring, and my mind kept wondering to what Biana saw. I know her's was, too, since we both got caught staring off into space. Lunch came around, and Biana, Sophie, Fitz, Dex, Kiara, Keefe, and I were all sitting together. Dex and Kiara were talking about something related to the time they studied, Fitz and Sophie had their heads bent towards each other in a deep conversation, so that left Biana, Keefe and I. I was burning with impatience, and Keefe and Biana could tell.

"Tell me, please. I've been dying to know all morning," I beg, hands clasped in front of me.

"Oooh, know what? Do I smell some juicy gossip?" Keefe gasps and claps his hands. "Ooh ooh oh! Count me in!"

Biana sighs and turns her attention to me. "Okay, so you know how I was late to History this morning?"

I nod. Keefe looks at me and then nods, too.

Biana continues. "So I was coming out of the bathroom and heard people talking. I thought it was teachers so I hid in the dark space between those lockers-you know which ones I'm talking about?" After I confirm that I do know the lockers, Biana goes on. "Well, I was hiding in there and saw, you'll never guess."

"Biana, just get to the point already. I'm growing grey hairs over here, waiting," Keefe exclaims, throwing up his hands.

"Okay, geez, Mr. Impatient, I'll get to the point." Biana's expression was hurt, but she got to the point.

"Anyway, it wasn't teachers, like I thought. It was actually Marella and Jensi. And guess what they were talking about," Biana wiggles her body excitedly.

"Wait, Marella is the girl with the braids, right?" I ask.

"Yeah," Keefe says, leaning towards Biana in anticipation. "And what were they talking about?"

Biana leans forwards too. So do I.

Biana's voice reaches a whisper and Keefe and I strain to hear what she says next.

"They were talking about their relationship. Jensi and Marella are together! They even kissed goodbye right in front of me. I saw it." Biana smiles and her bracelets jingle when she shakes her hands. "Isn't that crazy?"

I glance at Keefe and see his face fall. "I thought it was going to be something good," he mumbles, leaning back in his chair. "That was anticlimactic."

I agreed with him a little bit. I didn't know Marella well enough to be happy for her, but I was glad for Jensi.

"That's crazy," I tell Biana, only because I could tell her feelings were bruised that we didn't think it as big a deal as she does.

"Thanks, Daisy. I just can't believe it," she says. "I mean, school's barely started."

"Maybe they hung out over the summer," I speculate.

"Maybe," Biana mumbles. I could tell that she was thinking hard about the subject since her eyebrows were scrunched and she was biting her lip.

"You were expecting something better, weren't you?" I whisper to Keefe, tilting my head towards his.

Keefe stuffs a fry, part of the lunch today, into his mouth and says, "Yeah. I've known about Jensi and Marella for weeks now."

"But we've only been in school for a week," I point out, stealing one of his fries from the basket. Keefe smacks my hand and I stick my tongue out at him.

"Doesn't matter," he answers. "You could've seen it coming a mile away."

I roll my eyes and reach for another fry. Keefe yanks the basket away. "Don't you have your own lunch?"

I glance at my own tray, with its empty fry basket. "No," I say. I snatch a fry and pop it in my mouth, grinning as Keefe mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like "this girl is a thief."

When the last bell rings, signaling the end of the day, I trudge to detention. I wave goodbye to Dex as he passes by me in the hall, his siblings making another appearance.

"See ya, Daisy," he calls over the clashing lockers and shouting kids.

I nearly get knocked out by a rogue locker door, and a kid with red hair apologizes profusely as I stumble backwards.

"It's okay. It didn't hit me," I tell him. I walk away before he could answer, the current of the crowd moving to the door is too strong for me to resist. The classroom where detention was held came into view, and dread fills my stomach. Hopefully, there are more delinquents there today than just Stina. I don't know if I could handle being alone with her again.

I break away from the mass of students and pause outside the door, drawing in a deep breath before I open it and step through.

I don't look at who's in there until after I shut the door. The noise of the hallways are immediately muffled. I turn around to find my wish came true. Stina was there, in the middle row, twirling a pencil around her fingers, and she glares at me as I meet her gaze. But there are others, as well. A boy with shaggy black hair was slouching in the back, earbuds plugged in his ears, and there were two girls talking quietly to each other in the other corner.

I slip into the seat closest to the door and wait for the teacher to arrive. My mind wanders to the grocery list sitting in my pocket. Is there anything else we need? The teacher comes in just then, and I look up to see Mr. Astin walk into the classroom. I feel my shoulders sag in relief. Thank the Lord it's not Ms. Galvin. I slump back in my chair and wait for detention to begin.

The day isn't as bright when I finally get out of detention. The daylight was shorter due to winter almost arriving, and the clouds were dark silhouettes against the lavender, yellow, red, and pink sky.

I touch the blister on my finger, gained from copying star maps onto separate sheets of paper for detention. I never want to write again. A slight breeze danced through my hair as I walk to the grocery store.

The heat blasts me in the face as I walk through the sliding glass doors, and the warmth nips my frozen cheeks. The store didn't have the bright luminescent lighting like some. But the lights were more yellow, more homely. I take the list from my pocket and started on. Alright. Where are the eggs.

It's safe to say that I spent an unnecessarily long amount of time looking for the shampoo. The store gladly met the needs of food; 97% of the store was just food. But for toiletries and clothing, the sections were smaller than my bedroom. So really, it's not my fault I had to circle the store a few times before I caught sight of some toilet paper, which eventually steered me to the shampoo.

I'm smelling the scent of one particular bottle when I hear a crash. I close the lid and hurry towards the end of aisle, curiosity prompting me to take a peek of what fell over. I turn the corner of the aisle to see two little boys—looking to be seven and eleven with a beet red face—scrambling to pick up a display stand of—I cover my mouth to trap in a laugh. The two rascals knocked over a stand of tampons.

"Hurry, David. They can't see us with these!" The older one hisses to David, the little one.

"Why? What are these things? They kinda look like missiles. Cool." David picks up a box and smiled down at the packaging.

The old one groans and chucks a box back onto the stand. "Oh my gosh, this is so embarrassing."

I chuckle and make my way over there, tucking the shampoo into my basket.

"Hey, guys. Want some help?" I ask, setting my basket down and crouching next to David. I stick some tampons back and glance up at David's brother.

His face couldn't be any redder, and his mouth was flapping. He stares at me and then his eyes flick to the packages of lady products and then back up at me. I smile wider.

He stammers a reply, "Oh—uh—th—I don't—"

I need to let this poor boy out of his misery before he jerks over and passes out. "It's alright," I cut in. "You guys go on, I can pick this up."

"Thank you, miss!" Says David. He shoots up and runs away, shouting for his dad about the "cool missiles he found by the shampoo." David's older brother climbs to his feet too, and doesn't meet my eyes as he mumbles his thanks. He almost runs faster than David did.

I stifle a laugh and finish putting the display back together, tucking one package under my arm.

Hey, you never know when you might need it.

A/N:

Whaddup, kiddos. It's me, I'm back. Hope you enjoy this chapter! It's a whole lot of nothing important other than Daisy's grief. But whatever, let's be grateful I actually finished a chapter. We all know I struggle with that. I hope you guys are having a blessed day, my chickies. Love y'all! And let's pray next chapter some action gets going. Maybe with some pranks? ;)))  
~Author

PS- this might be filled with mistakes I didn't edit it before I posted. Good luck navigating the chapter if it does, haha. Sorry.


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